


Break a Sweat

by rogersmorse



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gym Sex, Wall Sex, based off the gifs of bobbi sparring with mack in whatever episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 15:20:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5053807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rogersmorse/pseuds/rogersmorse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Wanna go a few rounds?” she asks, before she can stop and think about her word choice, and he turns to look at her with wide eyes. “As in sparring, you dumbass."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break a Sweat

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place somewhere between 2x6 and 2x12, I guess. Idk I had a need for Bobbi and Lance sparring and then having sex in the gym.
> 
> I've been talking about this thing for a while and I finally found enough inspiration to finish it.
> 
> So here it is. 'The Gym Fic.'

Bobbi’s working the punching bag, trying to burn off some of the adrenaline so she can finally go to sleep, when she hears the doors open. It’s not uncommon for another agent to join her in the gym at three in the morning, but considering everyone just got off an op, it’s more than a little weird. In the mirror, she sees Lance enter through the doors, and they lock eyes. She nods at him sharply before turning back to the bag, punching it in quick succession.

She knows without even looking that he’s heading for the free weights; it’s how he’s always started. Occasionally, she’ll glance up and watch as he lifts, the veins on his arms standing out, and her thoughts drift to those strong arms holding her hands above her head. The bag swings into her and she stumbles backward, holding onto either side for balance. Shaking her head, she goes back to the bag and tries to ignore the slight throbbing between her legs.

Bobbi can feel his eyes on her as she moves onto kicks. She knows he’s staring at her ass and she grins smugly to herself. Aiming high up on the bag, she lifts her leg above her head and kicks, following through with the motion, the world spinning upside down for a brief second. She rights herself, hands resting on the bag to both stop it from swinging and to support her body.

Looking up again, she spots him on the bench press and sighs. The dumbass never did like making people go out of their way to help him, even if it was necessary. She rolls her eyes as she takes her gloves off, already walking in his direction.

“Need a hand?” she asks, looking down at him over the bar and his grip falters for a brief second. Instinctively, her hands hover underneath it, just in case he needs it.

“Sure, give me a heart attack when I’m benching 130. That’s exactly what I need,” he grits out, placing the bar back in the stand.

“Because you always start cold at 130. Mhmm, sure,” she taunts, lifting an eyebrow. He sighs and sits up, reaching for his water bottle. Her skin still feels a little too close and normally, at this point, she'd ask someone to spar.

“Wanna go a few rounds?” she asks, before she can stop and think about her word choice, and he turns to look at her with wide eyes. “As in sparring, you dumbass," she quickly corrects, pushing at his shoulder before walking away with a grin. She can see him smiling in the mirror as he takes one last swig of his water bottle before dropping it and standing.

“Now Bob, I’m not gonna go easy on you,” he jeers and she snorts, bending to pick up her gloves.

“Well, that makes two of us,” she retorts, flexing her fingers after she does up the velcro. She finds him standing behind her, slipping his hands into his own gloves. Bobbi spins on the ball of her foot and swings her fist, feeling it connect with his bicep. His face screws up in confusion and she grins.

“C'mon, Hunter, I know you can do better than that.”

"At least wait for me to finish getting my gloves on!" he whines and she snorts as she rolls her eyes, standing straight for a second. He does up the last strap, taps his fists together, and nods curtly. “Okay, let's go.”

She swings her fist out again and he barely ducks it, managing a jab to her side. Bobbi steps backward out of pure shock and he smirks. “What's wrong, sweetheart? Wasn't expecting me to be good?”

“You've definitely improved from the last time,” she says, kicking her leg out and up, and he flinches back just enough that her foot comes right in front of his face. “It's been a while."

“Since we sparred or went a few rounds?” he says, leering as he walks around her. She stumbles and his grin grows a fraction wider when he notices.

Bobbi feigns going in for a punch before turning at the last second, grabbing his arm when he tries to hit her and flipping him over her shoulder. He bounces lightly off the mat with a groan and she presses her foot into the center of his chest. She grins down at him, one eyebrow cocked, and Lance opens his eyes, trailing off mid-groan at her expression.

“Doesn't matter, I always seem to end up on top.”

He laughs breathlessly and lets his head fall to the mat as Bobbi sets her foot back on the ground and reaches a hand down. He moves to take her hand before sitting up at the last second and grabbing her leg, twisting it as he pulls her calf towards him. She goes down immediately, landing on top of him with a grunt.

“It seems I do my best work when I'm under you." She snorts and rolls off to the side, lying on her back to catch her breath. Lance stands up and turns to her, biting his bottom lip to stop from laughing, and Bobbi rolls her eyes.

“What?”

“Well, you're finally on _your_ back for once.” She kicks him in the shin before pushing herself off the ground, bouncing to her feet.

“I’m gonna get you back for that one,” she says, tapping her fist to his bicep before returning her hands to shield her face.

“Oh, we’ll see about that.” He lunges forward, all brute force and no grace, and she drops to the floor, rolling across the mat before hopping back up. He looks around but she’s already kicking out. He just barely manages to get his arm up in time to block and she spins backward as she recovers.

Lance steps toward her and she goes in for a punch. He ducks and sidesteps, remembering a few of her tricks. She attempts to land a hit on the backswing and he grabs her arm, using her momentum to twirl her away from him.

She turns around with a dazed look on her face and he smirks. “C’mon, love. You might have to do better than that.” Bobbi can feel her lips twist down into a scowl, and she hates that he knows exactly how to get under her skin.

She punches his shoulder, moving too quick for him to block, and brings her other arm up, hitting him in the middle of the chest with her elbow. He grunts and lifts his knee, leaning into her. She steps back to compensate and Lance shoves at her shoulders, walking her backward until she’s pressed up against the wall of mirrors.

Her mouth falls open in a silent groan and she can see his throat working as he tries to swallow. She's panting, trying to catch her breath, chest heaving, which only makes hers press against his with every inhale. His eyes turn dark in a split second and she feels his hold on her falter.

She sees her chance and takes it, pushing him backward and flipping their positions, so he's the one pressed against the mirror. Bobbi breathes heavily as her lips curl up in a smile and she leans in, her face a few inches from his.

“I win.” She's unrelenting in her grip, her hands squeezing tighter as she speaks, and a moan catches in the back of his throat. Bobbi pushes off him immediately, taking a step back and inhaling shakily. He's staring at her with hooded eyes, a slim ring of hazel visible around his wide pupils; a look that’s always made her weak in the knees.

And then she’s moving back towards him, pressing him into the mirror as she kisses him deeply, tongue sliding between his lips. Without breaking the kiss, Lance flips them again so she’s pressed against the mirror. He brings his arms up, placing one on either side of her head, bracing himself.

Bobbi pushes at the hem of his shirt insistently, desperate to feel his skin under her hands. She gets the shirt over his neck and Lance pulls away to cast his shirt off somewhere across the room. She tugs each glove off with her teeth, letting them fall to the ground before grabbing his waist. His hips collide with hers and she moans, throwing her head back as she feels his cock press against her, even through the layers of their shorts.

“Clothes. Off. _Now_ ,” she bites out, not even caring who could see them or if there’d be security footage she’d have to erase later.

“How long has it been since you went a few rounds with anyone, love?” he asks while trailing his lips down her neck, fingers deftly undoing the zipper on the front of her sports bra. She brings a hand up to the back of his head and grips his hair tightly as he shoves the fabric of her bra to the side. 

She opens her mouth to respond but he licks a wide stripe over her nipple before sucking it into his mouth. A long string of curses falls from her lips as she holds him closer to her chest, pushing his shorts and underwear down around his thighs with her other hand. 

Bobbi wraps her hand around his cock, relishing in the choked-off whimpers that vibrate against her skin. He moves to her other breast then, paying it the same attention while sliding his hand under the hem of her shorts. She hums contentedly as his fingers find her clit, and she grinds down onto his hand while she pumps him faster.

She’s breathing heavily when he suddenly pulls back, shoving her shorts down to the ground and knocking her hand out of the way at the same time. His hands move around to her ass, lifting her off the ground, and she’s pressed harder into the mirror as she wraps her legs around his waist. Bobbi feels her back slip against the mirror, now slick from sweat, and squeezes her legs. 

“Bloody hell,” Lance breathes as their bodies line up just right and she rocks her hips up. She reaches down and takes hold of his cock before guiding him inside her, hips twitching as she tries to take it slow. His head falls to her shoulder and a groan stutters out of his lungs. 

He presses inside her until his hips are flush with hers and she's clawing at his back as she gets used to the feeling of him. Bobbi opens her mouth with a plan of telling him to move when he suddenly thrusts up hard and a jumble of swears falls off her lips. He chuckles, breath ghosting over her heated skin, and she whines at the sudden burst of air.

“That yes, just that,” she babbles as he pulls out almost all the way before slamming back home. She doesn't even care that the mirror is unyielding against her back and she's going to ache tomorrow, but she knows it'll be the best kind of ache; the just-had-sex-for-the-first-time-in-months ache that makes her feel like every nerve ending is vibrating.

Lance ducks his head to mouth at the tops of her breasts, trailing sloppy kisses over her skin. She keens as he rocks his hips into her and finds the spot that sends sparks shooting through veins. He pulls back to look at her with a sly grin before quickening the pace of his hips. 

“Fuck yes, oh my god _that_ -,” she whines, the rest of her sentence lost in a myriad of whimpers and gasps. Bobbi drops her hand to his side and scrapes her nails up the side of his ribcage, leaving faint red lines in her wake. 

Her thumb sweeps across his nipple and a breathy moan is punched out of him. He kisses her again, mouth hot and unyielding against hers. Her back catches along the mirror almost painfully, but it's a welcome edge to the waves of pleasure threatening to overtake her. 

“God, Bobbi,” he groans as his hips move faster still. The obscene slap of skin against skin mingled with her breathy gasps and his soft grunts grows louder in the spacious room, the sound so foreign to her ears. 

She pulls him into a biting kiss, moaning into his mouth as he fucks up into her. He pulls back to catch his breath, resting his forehead on her shoulder as he thrusts and squeezes her ass. Bobbi closes her eyes as it gets harder to form coherent thoughts, her stomach clenching warningly.

“I'm gonna-. Close.” she stammers and grips the short hairs on the back of his head as she pushes down. He gets the idea and his lips close around her nipple, sucking and doing an absolutely confounded thing with his tongue that makes her arch off the mirror. He bites gently and scrapes his teeth and she's gone, crying out something that sounds suspiciously like his name mixed in with a few choice swears. He whimpers as she tightens around him, nails digging into his scalp. His hips jerk into hers a few more times before he follows her over that edge, groaning as he spills inside her. 

When she finally comes back down, she's surprised to find that he's still holding her up against the mirror. She hums as she cards her fingers through his hair, letting him know that he can set her down. Lance lets out a drawn out exhale as she reaches down and helps him slowly pull out. She swallows back a whine that catches in her throat as he gently lowers her legs down. Her calves tremor and she leans against the mirror for support as she tugs on his arm, guiding him to rest next to her. 

Bobbi chuckles breathlessly as she takes in the scene before her. Her shorts are hanging off the rack of free weights, her underwear nowhere to be seen. She's only wearing one shoe and she spots the other lying a few feet away, and she's curious to know how that even happened. Lance is still wearing his gloves and she's unable to contain her laughter. 

He looks at her with a sated grin and she smiles back at him for a brief moment. He's the one to break away, the tips of his ears suddenly bright red. The awkwardness is palpable and she has the urge to fix it; they'd always been unpredictable and emotion-fueled, but never awkward. 

He's pulling his shorts up when she makes her decision and turns to stand in front of him. Lance freezes up immediately, staring at her with a curious look. She reaches one hand out to grab his waist, thumb tracing over his hipbone. 

“So,” Bobbi starts and he cocks an eyebrow as she trails off, waiting to hear the rest of her sentence. When she doesn't continue, he covers her hand with his and she glances up at him with a soft smile. 

“Your bunk or mine?”

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/bobbiimorses)   
>  [tumblr](http://teacupandhellbeast.tumblr.com/)


End file.
